Breaking The Law For You
by kimmiesjoy
Summary: When fate reveals Castle's plan to run off to Paris and save his kidnapped daughter, terrified for his life, his safety, Kate Beckett sees no other option than to go in his place. AU. Target/Hunt. Based on a prompt from louisemcdoogle. Cover art by LoveJessieLou.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing and no one.

**A/N:** The overlord whispered into my ear and now I am one of her legion of many! Based on a prompt from louisemcdoogle, which I will post with the last chapter.

With thanks to Sandra for help with the French, Jessie for the cover art and Indie for talking me out of word oblivion on more than one occasion. Hugs.

Thank you for reading.

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><p>I'll never stop<p>

Breaking the law for you

I'll never stop

Helping to pull you through

Whatever it takes to get what you need

Ignore the alarms

Ignore the police

I'll never stop

Breaking the law for you!

* * *

><p>It isn't planned.<p>

At least that won't be a lie when she tells him. Later, after.

Kate clings to the knowledge she can be honest about that, if nothing else, with a death grip born of fear and panic and concern for what lies ahead of them. The worry for what damage she could be doing with this act is only lessened by the knowledge she's saving him from going alone. Saving him from himself.

It isn't planned.

Opportunity, fate, some twisted form of destiny? Call it what you will, but when presented with the choice, Kate Beckett sees no option but to take the chance the universe is offering. You don't look a gift horse in the mouth, especially not when the lives of people you love are on the line.

She'd only dashed to the loft to check on him.

A few minutes out of the case to change her clothes and hold his hand as he dealt with the aftermath of skype contact with Alexis. Maybe a moment to buoy him along as he ripped himself apart over his missing daughter; that's all she envisioned.

She'd done it at least once tonight already, been for him what he'd been to her for so many years. A voice of optimism, a light in the dark. She'd given him decaf and sent him home to his mother with every shred of hope she could muster, finding herself preoccupied with thoughts of following him the second he was out of her sight.

She's his partner in grief as much as in joy and his absence called to her loudly.

Beckett had wanted to hear the words from _his_ mouth not the Feds. She needed to know how Alexis had seemed to _him_, the man who knew her better than anyone else. Desiring nothing more than to share in some of the relief of that encounter, to see the proof of life having sunk into him, light his eyes with a faith that would keep them moving forward, with renewed vigor.

She'd half hoped to coax him to rest.

Kate doubted sleep would come to him until Alexis was safely home - from experience with trauma herself, maybe not even then - but still she had thought she could entice him to sit, maybe lay down at her side and rest his eyes for a few minutes.

When Kate had entered his office she'd found Castle quietly slumped across his desk, exhaustion granting him a reprieve.

Alexis wasn't home, no, but she was _alive_.

So, fate then that made her come to him, that found him sleeping and revealed his secrets. Fate that confirmed her worst fears and sent ice cold shivers down her spine at what could have happened if she hadn't arrived when she did. Fate that made her slowly pry the paper from his fingers to reveal a name and an address in Paris. A flight number. His passport.

A plan already in motion.

She wasn't even surprised.

Kate's fist had closed slowly around the flight details, standing in silence she watched him sleep. She knew the lines that played over his forehead gave away the quiet nightmares he was trapped within, and as much as she wanted to stay and soothe him through them - allow him to wake in her arms for some semblance of comfort - Kate also knew time was not on her side.

She had to think of Alexis. Had to think of Castle's mother and somehow put their family back together. _Her_ family.

Taking the address and the name, Kate had slipped the frantically scribbled note into her pocket and reached once more for his passport. She wasn't sure he would forgive her for this, for taking the decision from his hands, for acting alone. But no matter what the outcome would be, she was sure of one thing; he'd make himself a target too.

She needed to keep the crosshairs off his back.

She needed to act fast.

Castle would never give up, never back down, searching desperately for answers. He could get himself killed in the process. He'd staple a bullseye to his chest and run off into the night - without her given half the chance.

She had to stop him.

She had no other choice.

* * *

><p>At the door Martha steps out of the shadow, eyes rimmed red and her face set, cold as stone, no longer wearing her mask of hope and optimism. Her gaze drops bitterly to Kate's hands before darting over the detective's shoulder to the sleeping writer, unwanted knowledge and understanding changing her expression.<p>

"You two." Martha shakes her head and sighs.

Standing still is killing her, vibrating with the need to act before he wakes, Kate feels as if she's drowning in her desire to be gone. Yet, here, with Martha's eyes on her, she finds herself completely frozen, unable to tear herself from his mother's gaze.

"He won't survive it," Martha states, worry bathing her sleeping child as she watches him, "and he'll never forgive you if -"

"I'll bring her home." Kate vows, cutting off Martha's words mid sentence because she already _knows_ the truth in them. She doesn't need it drummed into her desperate and panicked heart anymore than it already is.

Castle said as much himself.

He'll never forgive her... _if_ -

Kate flinches when Martha takes her hand, surprised by the sudden touch. Kate holds herself back from the comfort offered by Castle's mother, not really sure she deserves it, not when she's running off in the middle of the night without telling him.

Martha ignores the flinch of her body, and wraps her fingers around Kate's wrist, smoothing over her knuckles with the pad of her thumb, she smiles forlornly. Knowingly.

"Make sure you _both_ come home, Katherine," Martha sighs out quietly, her eyes firmly back on her son, "he wouldn't survive _that_ either."

* * *

><p>She changes the flight information sitting in her car, one hand gripping tight to the wheel. Kate bites her tongue, watches her knuckles turn white in frustration when the woman on the other end of the line chitter chatters.<p>

She doesn't have time for this. Doesn't have patience for pleasantries or procedure.

Jaw tensed, she thinks of Castle. Alexis. Bringing them back together. It helps slow the rapid fire pummelling of her heart against her ribcage.

Kate uses her credit card to cover last minute booking fees before driving to her apartment, her eyes watching his building disappear in the rearview mirror with pain and regret. She's leaving him behind, and, for his own good or not, it's breaking her heart to do it.

* * *

><p>It comes at her suddenly, like a fist in the gut. She won't be able to travel with her gun.<p>

Neither her work piece nor her hidden backup will clear airport security and even if she could somehow talk her way through it using her badge she cannot risk the delay. Can't risk the inevitable screw up that will end with someone calling her boss or her boyfriend and busting her before she's even left the country.

Unarmed is her only option.

Both guns and Castle's stolen passport find their way into the wall safe built into her closet and with the few seconds she dares to spare, Kate flips the page to his photo and strokes her fingers over his face.

He's younger in his picture, carefree, smiling and unmarred by worry. Kate breathes slowly, stares down and allows her mind to wander. She aches, feels it blossom in her chest, her love for him this tangible thing that begs and pleads and wants nothing more than to see his face like this again. Happy. Smiling.

Standing in her bedroom, Kate vows silently to herself to do her utmost to give him that. Whatever it takes. Whatever morals that require compromising and whatever law that needs to be broken; she'll stop at nothing.

While her heart is consumed with hope and promise her mind remains logical. She knows him, knows how he thinks and what he's capable of and Kate wonders at the likelyhood of a second passport existing somewhere in the loft.

A secret identity that will get him out of the country?

Born of research rather than necessity, ready for Castle to spring into action and _Derek Storm_ his way across the seas, Kate imagines a secret drawer at the bottom of his desk, spring loaded and full of the necessary paperwork. It's possible, and if it's not ... He'll no doubt have a guy somewhere, somehow, for whatever he needs.

Kate prays to whoever might be out there listening that if he does have another passport, a secret identity, a freaking jet plane on standby at an undisclosed airport, Castle will be so _angry_ with her for leaving him behind, he'll forget. He'll forget just long enough for her to do her thing, find his kid and come home. He'll forget and turn to the boys, not come chasing after her.

It's a long shot, a ridiculous and badly planned long shot, but if Castle's taught her anything in their years together it's that sometimes those long shots pay off. She's been quoting his own words back at him, as proof, for the entirety of this case, trying to reaffirm his belief.

Somewhere along the way he gave her back her ability to _hope_, so for his benefit and the sake of her own sanity, she'll cling to that for as long as she can.

She'll _hope_ that she can save his child, save them all. Hope that one day he'll forgive her for taking the decision out of his hands and going alone.

* * *

><p>They dim the lights on take off and her own eyes close heavily.<p>

People around her buzz with the excitement of travel and flight and adventures ahead, and Kate has never felt more alone. More cut off.

She misses her partner. His solid form at her side, the warmth of his fingers in her own, the heavy rumble of his reassuring words in her ear. She misses him, and the force of it makes her grateful she's already seated.

Kate checks her watch, only a few hours have passed since the skype call confirmed Alexis was still alive and she starts to wonder. She finds she's deflated a little, and without the need to lift Castle's spirits her own are sinking. What if's are playing loudly in her mind, scenarios and possibilities loudly confronting her inner detective. She finds the two halves of herself at war, not knowing which side to rest her faith in.

Something roars inside her the moment her thoughts turn towards the negative. This great stubborn belief, rising up, blanketing her chest with conviction. It casts a Castle shaped shadow over everything, drowns out the sound of the plane and people around her, silencing her doubt in the process.

This is a _child_. This is _his_ child. There is no room for mistakes or failure or lack of conviction. She will bring his daughter home - alive - if it's the last thing she ever does.

* * *

><p>The seatbelt sign goes off and a flight attendant shimmies by. Kate knows there is only one solution. She needs to be awake, be alert, be focused and in control. Yet without him and in this direst of situations it just feels wrong, feels almost like a betrayal.<p>

It's ridiculous, she pushes the feelings aside and when the coffee comes it's strong and bitter and different enough to what she shares with Castle that sipping it doesn't make her eyes burn with unshed tears.

The warmth of the jet black liquid fills her up, throws her back in time to his early groans and grumbles about precinct coffee, and, as she inhales the aroma, Kate finds some semblance of peace.

Setting her cup down, Kate draws out the papers she stole from Castle's desk and tries to decide her next move. She traces the lines made by his pen, pictures his hands frantic as they scribbled the words and for the first time all evening finds herself grateful for the length of the flight, the time it gives her to gather her thoughts.

Right now she has no idea what she's walking into, what she's left behind. Unarmed and alone, Kate strokes over the marks left by Castle's pen and hopes somewhere deep inside he'll know she did this for him.

* * *

><p>When the plane lands she calls Espo.<p>

The sun is beating down, the sky a brilliant and too familiar shade of blue, and at some point jetlag will no doubt hit her like an out of control freight train, but for now she adjusts the time on her father's watch and waits for the line to connect.

Espo sounds half asleep when he answers, groggy and bitchy, and Kate takes comfort in that, hoping it means that Castle hasn't yet noticed she's gone. Hasn't called to demand the boys tell him where she is.

Espo instantly knocks her on her ass with the truth.

Since Kate left the kidnappers have released Sara El-Masri in exchange for fifteen million dollars. Alexis was part of the deal, but when the drop had taken place the girl was nowhere to be seen.

Kate steadies herself on the wall as her stomach turns over, flipping with disgust and fear, bile burning a path up her throat that forces her to choke it back so she doesn't vomit and miss some vital detail to the case.

"Kate, Castle's a wreck," Espo whispers, "Gates had to send him home when he -"

"When he what? Espo?" She clutches the phone to her ear and closes her eyes tight against the rush of panic. She should be there by his side.

"He took a swing at Agent Harris."

"What, why?" Kate blanches white in shock.

"He told Castle it was time to _manage expectations_, that they'd do everything but -"

"He said that? That piece of sh-" Beckett grapples with her own temper, outraged the Agent could be so callous to a man whose child was missing, let alone say things that horrific to Castle without her there to shoulder some of it, bear the burden with him.

If she could get her hands on Agent Harris she'd -

Espo curses, then falls utterly silent as she talks. Words in rapid succession launch themselves from her mouth as she lays out her plan.

Kate refuses to ask him to lie to Castle, even though she knows he would. She doesn't even ask him to cover for her with Gates.

There's no point. Not now.

She's quit before.

She's been suspended before.

There is no outcome to an encounter with her captain that would make Kate change her mind or deviate from the path she's on, so she will take whatever is coming to her and live with it.

Kate reiterates to Espo what doesn't need to be said, Castle and his daughter are her main - her only - priorities.

Espo must stay on the case, solve the murder of Roger Henson, Kate states, with the firm belief that figuring out his death will lead them to the people who took Alexis.

She hangs up before he can utter more than "_don't get yourself killed, Beckett."_

She hails a cab, a strange weight lifting from her shoulders now she's made contact with home, only to be replaced by another.

Alexis is still missing. And now she's alone.

Firing off the address Castle had written down Kate stares out of the window, watching the "city of love" flash by. It's cruel really, every time she imagined coming here, touristy and romantic and every ridiculous cliche imaginable, Castle was by her side.

* * *

><p>Kate checks her watch when the traffic slows around the Seine, knowing she missed the kidnappers' hand-off by mere hours. She still has time though, at least an hour to get to the cafe and make herself known to Castle's contact.<p>

She'll engage with him, learn what she can, find out why Castle placed so much trust in this person and then use it to her advantage.

He's a smart man, her writer, her partner. A clever man with a keen intellect and she trusts him with her life, so if he had a plan set in motion to find his daughter, she'll follow it as long as she can.

* * *

><p>When she arrives at the address, Kate isn't surprised by what she finds. It's a quintessential Parisian cafe, maybe a little over the top with the framed art work on the wall and the flags festooned from the ceiling, but the smell of coffee is intense and delicious and she finds her mouth watering as she takes up a seat at the bar.<p>

She orders, her voice low, her accent a little sketchy. It's been a while since she's spoken French, but her understanding at least hasn't lessened. Dragging her eyes over the array of pastries and chocolate strawberries with another pang of what _could_ be Kate focuses on the light refracting from the rows of glasses in front of the mirror.

She ignores her own hollowed out eyes and scans the room, the mirrored reflection affords a view of the patrons behind her that is too good to pass up. Kate finds from this vantage point she can watch every person come and go without fear of being spotted. Being obvious.

She barely has time to take a sip before the waitress that delivered her coffee offers up a jovial "Bonjour Gaston," and Kate feels her blood run cold.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Writing to a prompt ;)

**Disclaimer: **All borrowed dialogue belongs to their respective owners (ie not me I own nothing and no one)

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><p>He's older than she expected, closer to Martha's age than Castle's, white hair and designer suit topped off with an expensive winter coat. He looks <em>normal.<em>

It dawns on her then she was expecting some elite secret ops force, some government adjacent hard men that Castle would have used for inspiration in one of his books. Her heart sinks and her hope starts to plummet but her faith in Castle remains. If he chose Gaston to be his go to person in France there was a reason. Now it's up to her to find out what it is.

* * *

><p>Kate waits until he finds a table, circles the room, and then slides in opposite him. She watches Gaston startle at first, his eyes drifting over her body with appraisal. It's not lecherous or seedy, just confused and when she leans onto her elbows he flinches, panic darting into his eyes.<p>

She doesn't know what it is he sees when their vision collides, but she likes the reaction. "Richard Castle sent me." She states, outright lying but not caring if it gets her what she wants.

The man's worry falls away instantly replaced by a smile at the mention of Castle's name and her heart thuds heavily with understanding. This man has no idea why she's here.

When Kate tells him the truth behind her visit to France the worry returns. In fact, Gaston looks downright terrified.

* * *

><p>"You work as an adviser to the Minister of Defense?" Kate's shock is clear in her voice, and she tries to put the pieces together in her head. Did Castle think Alexis' kidnapping had political motives? Does he have contacts buried within the French government that he hoped would facilitate her release?<p>

Nothing makes sense and Gaston sits silent, clinging to his coffee cup, staring.

"Why would Castle contact you?" She demands, elbows knocking aside the cutlery on the table as her patience wanes. They're starting to attract the attention of the other customers and Kate forces herself to remain in her seat.

"I 'av no idea." Gaston gestures, nodding to the waitress that everything is fine before he continues, "I 'av very little pull with the Police Nationale, Ricky only ever came to me for advice on 'is novels."

"Which ones?" Her eyes dart from side to side as she thinks back over his work, it wouldn't be Nikki Heat, she knows those books inside out and nothing here fits them at all.

It would be before that, before they met.

"Derek Storm?" She clutches at straws, guessing, theorizing out loud as she goes, "You work in the government but why would he go the bureaucratic route?" It makes no sense when everything else has been suspicious, why would he suddenly choose to play this by the book? "Did you mention a team or someone that could find people, missing people? Someone they used when they didn't want to go to the police, or start an investigation?"

Gaston's mouth opens and closes and Kate loses what little grip she has on her self control.

Her fist comes down hard on the table, cups jumping, knives and forks clanging, and she rises up in her seat, threat and violence and bloody murder burning a direct path from her eyes to his. She hisses, "Did you tell him about someone who could make people _disappear_?"

"I - eh - it was all in confidenze' " Gaston stammers, his face blanching white, " 'alf of it never even made it into 'is books."

"But these people - this person - they exist?"

"It is one thing for 'im to write about these characters from the safety of 'is desk, but these are not the kind of people 'e wants to know." Gaston stares her down defiantly, waiting until she sinks back into her chair. "_You_ even less so."

Kate's smile comes slowly and Gaston startles at the sight of it, "Trust me, I've met worse."

"I'm not sure that is even possible. Miss. Beckett." The man shakes his head, sighing heavily.

"Detective."

"What?" Gaston's head shoots up, eyes narrowing.

"Detective Beckett," Kate says again, more quietly, "I work homicide in New York, believe me I know what I'm getting into." She lies again, covers it well and watches as her words sink in. "But I am not a cop today, Gaston." She growls, her voice low, sinister, "I'm here to find my partner's daughter."

" 'Omicide," Gaston pales, white as death, "I thought you said 'is daughter was still alive?"

"She is," Kate refuses to believe otherwise, but she needs this man's help, she needs him on her side, " And I intend to keep her that way."

* * *

><p>They exchange numbers.<p>

" 'Et will be expensive," Gaston sighs, "and you'll 'ave to stay close to your phone." He gets up to leave and stops when Kate's fingers coil around his arm.

"How do I know I can trust you?" She sounds desperate. She is.

"You don't, detective," Gaston, untangles her fingers from his coat sleeve and steps back from the table, "But Richard was my friend, I 'av grandchildren." He smiles sadly, "Keep your phone on."

* * *

><p>The second he's out of sight Beckett feels an overwhelming rush of panic and she has to get out of the crowded cafe. She knocks over her chair as she pulls her coat from the back of it, stumbling out onto the street, gasping.<p>

It's loud. Horns blare on cars that pass by, people knock into her and send her spinning, her senses on high alert. Kate takes one step and then another and another, until she's all but running, seeking sanctuary in some quieter, less confining side street.

When she stops her lungs are aching and she has to fight to breathe.

The cold air feels good against her skin, and she tugs loose the buttons of her white shirt, dragging her fingers down her neck as the sweetness of space and silence fills her up, lessening her claustrophobia.

Kate allows herself a moment, just one, to stand there, alone in a foreign city, with the weight of the world on her shoulders and her heart frantic in her chest, one moment to feel the panic.

Her hand slides over her heart, fingers cold against her bare skin as she slides them under the collar of her shirt.

One moment to feel the fear and the dread.

Then she tucks it up in a box deep inside and fights to calm her breathing. She works through familiar steps, counting each inhale and picturing the incoming tide, blowing out hard and watching the sea in her mind roll away.

It helps, a little, but in the end she focuses on him, Castle, and with his image at the forefront of her mind Kate regains her sense of self and her control.

With him in her heart she remembers how to breathe.

* * *

><p>Kate holds onto his image when her phone chimes little over half an hour later with a message.<p>

_**St. Thomas d'aquine church.**_

_**1 hour. Take seat. He will find you.**_

Her fingers reach beneath her coat, searching for a reassuring graze to a weapon she doesn't have. She curses, but whatever the outcome, she's in it now, no turning back.

* * *

><p>The church is beautiful, awe inspiring and absolutely the worst place for a meet.<p>

When Kate walks in she finds the building dimly lit in shadow and candlelight, the stain glass windows trapping whatever sun could stream inside, and no matter where she chooses to sit she won't be able to see all the entrances. Not to mention her back will be to the majority of the church.

It's wrong. She doesn't like it.

It goes against every cop instinct she has but Kate finds a seat two rows back on the left hand side of the altar, eyes flickering around the room as she waits.

Shadows dance, sending fire and glowing confusion in human shaped patterns up the length of the cold brick. It's hard to concentrate, find one source of light or sound, and her body reacts immediately, eyes catching with a man who sits alone at the back of the church.

Her fingers curl in her palm, biting back another urge to reach for her abandoned weapon.

Behind her the bench creaks and Kate spins to find herself face to face with her contact.

"Vengeance is mine, sayeth the lord, I will repay."

His accent is thick and he toys with the words like a cat with a mouse, releasing some and trapping others, clawing at the edge of his sentence.

Ice creeps through her veins as their eyes meet.

"But sometimes, the lord needs a little 'elp, eh?"

He laughs; it's the least funny thing she's ever heard.

Kate finds herself nodding, taking in his body language and the bulges in his coat, her visual assessment telling her he's unarmed while her gut screams he has a weapon, most likely trained on her this very second.

"I 'av terms." He states when she doesn't speak, " 'alf now and 'alf when I find 'er."

"You know where she is?" Kate blurts, unable to help herself.

"Not yet, but I will. 'owever, I don't promise to find 'er alive."

Her fingers grip tight to the wooden pew, knuckles scalded white again as her teeth sink into her tongue and Kate's whole body fights against its own violent hatred of that outcome.

"That is out of my 'ands I'm afraid."

It goes against everything she is, everything she does, everything she has believed in her entire life to give her trust to this man, but Kate can see no other choice.

She didn't doubt it before and she doesn't question it now, because when it comes to Castle and his family, Kate finds that there is no law she's willing to leave unbroken, no length she will not go to.

So, when he stands, this man cast in shadow and mystery and no small amount of danger, his hand held out and his voice low when he says, "Come, we need to leave," Kate follows without a second thought.

She's doing this for Martha, for Alexis and for herself. She's doing this for Castle and nothing, not even her own mounting sense of dread, will deter her.

* * *

><p>They end up buried deep in the bowels of the church. Marching through underground caverns and centuries old walkways. They descend flight upon flight of ancient stone steps, lit only by more flickering candles, until they find themselves miles below street level.<p>

If he's brought her down here to kill her, she has no weapon to defend herself and no means of escape. Kate remembers her promise to Martha, thinks of her father and the man she loves and steals herself for a fight.

Her fists clench as she prepares, if he makes the first move, she's ready to defend herself.

* * *

><p>An eerie green glow rises to meet them as they descend the last few steps. Their shadows bounce and dance where the passageway is at its narrowest point, forcing them to walk in single file. It allows Kate to breathe as she follows behind. At least walking like this there's less chance of a sneak attack from behind.<p>

"Do you speak French?" He asks as they round a corner and find themselves in a room draped with lengths of thick electrical cable, buzzing fills her ears and she swallows thickly, a strange sense of being too far below ground swooping through her. The man turns and waves her ahead of him, stealing her relief with the simple gesture.

"No." Kate lies immediately, trying to sound apologetic as self preservation kicks in hard and fast. Somehow she gets the sense that the _uncultured American_ act is gonna work in her favor, especially if this man and whatever contact he is taking her to believe they can speak freely in front of her.

"That is a shame," the man smiles, ignores her and proceeds, "Bonjour Henri."

"Bonjour."

Kate starts, jumping at the presence of another person. The man is short, pale and squirrely, his eyes covered though Kate herself is finding the darkness oppressive. He holds a hand in greeting.

"You ar' Kate, I presume."

His hand hovers as Kate steps forward to take it, shifting back and forth in the air. He's blind she realizes, or at least severely partially sighted, their fingers connect and a shiver slides through her body at the clamminess of his skin.

"Yes, I am," she swallows thickly, stepping back. "And you are?"

"We call 'im The Mole." The man at her back laughs, gesturing around to the tech heavy burrow, the darkness that consumes them, the covered eyes of Henri, "Clever, no?"

"Witty."

Kate shudders again and tries to keep her reaction hidden.

"Gaston said you 'ad proof the girl was still alive?"

Henri sits down and disappears from sight, hidden by wires and machinery, leaving Kate to turn her attention back to the man whose name she still doesn't know. He gestures for her to follow and when he takes up a seat on the lone leather couch Kate has no choice but to follow and perch at his side.

"She called her father."

"There is proof?"

"A video." Kate replies fishing for her phone, grateful to whoever it was that transferred it to her phone. She's played it more than once, listening to Castle's voice, Alexis in tears, until her heart could take it no longer.

" 'e will need dis'" He extends his hand and takes her phone. In one movement he removes her last source of comfort and defense, leaving Kate completely cut off.

* * *

><p>The video plays on repeat.<p>

She's never considered it before but if there was a torture specifically designed to drive her to distraction and inflict as much pain and guilt and suffering as humanly possible, this would be it.

Castle's voice echoes all around her. It pours from the mounted units above their heads, the megaphones and amplifiers, stereos and Frankensteined boomboxes. Every sound device available has been tweaked and manipulated to provide a different level of noise, a distorted or twisted version of the speech patterns of her partner.

When it reaches an unbearable level, The Mole kicks it up a notch and increases the volume. It coincides perfectly with Alexis' voice as she panics.

She's long since given up staring at the girls face on the computer screen and Kate curls her body over her knees, arms coming up either side of her head to block out the sound.

She can feel her heart in her chest, behind her eyes, in her ears, the blood rushes, the beat pounds and Kate feels as though she could explode with pent up rage and desperation. One more second and there is no telling what -

Mercifully the video cuts off.

Kate seethes through clenched teeth, "I told you, police tech and the F.B.I went through that video with a fine tooth comb," she stands, paces and clenches her fists, "If they didn't find anything, it's because there's nothing to find. We're wasting time."

A loud distorted echo blares above her head and behind her The Mole rises up from his chair and hisses at her to be quiet.

He talks too quickly in French and she misses most of it, something about eyes or ears and she turns to the other man expectantly.

" 'e says 'e 'as something. You've been listening with your eyes, _looking_ for clues."

Henri types frantically at the keyboard and the sounds around them distort, grow louder and Kate covers her ears when a particularly high pitched tone rents the air. Alexis quivers on the screen as Henri replays one three second sound clip over and over and over again.

It grows louder each time.

"What?" Kate starts forward, knowing from the man's sinister smile he believes he's found something, "What is it?"

" 'ear that?" He laughs, the sound grows louder, sounds like chipmunks chattering, "Church bells."

"Are you serious?" Kate barks, spinning between the two men, hearing nothing.

"Shhh." Her unnamed contact stands and puts his body between hers and Henri's.

"St. George's in the 16th." Henri twists a knob, sends crackles scattering all around them as the sounds bounce from the walls, then tweaks it and a faint ringing finds its way to her own ears.

Incredulous Kate's hand flies to her mouth as she hears the bell chime, long and low and in the distance.

The other man returns with a map, and she joins him once more on the couch, watching as he runs his fingers over the streets of Paris spread out before him. He pulls out a pin and marks the church.

"From the sound of it she is maybe, six, eight blocks away, hmm, there is a restaurant in the building she is in."

Kate opens her mouth to question how on earth he could know that, yet as she does Henri distorts the sound even more and for a split second she hears plates and cutlery and the sounds of a kitchen in full swing. It's impossible. Miraculous. Her eyes well, fingers covering her lips and she blinks hard as she trains her eyes on the map once more, refusing to let the shreds of hope that lay here draw tears from her eyes.

"There's a hum, like a fingerprint." Henri answers her unspoken question, "Unlike any other. It is unique."

The man at her side jumps to his feet and fishes out a laptop, pulling up street maps and scrolling frantically. Kate sits back and digs the palms of her hands into her eyes, a loud sigh escaping her before she has a chance to tamp it down.

Henri asks the question in French before his counterpart echoes it.

"When did you last sleep?"

She laughs mirthlessly, "I don't know." She caught maybe an hour on the plane, she's gone longer with less at work before, and there is caffeine in her system still. She can last a little while longer yet.

"You should sleep."

"Not likely."

The man makes a face, sighs and gestures to the couch at her back, "This will take some time, Kate."

Against her own better judgement Kate slides back onto the couch, curling her knees up underneath her and leaning her head onto her arm. She refuses to lay down, refuses to give in, but she keeps up the pretense and plays the part, settling her body as if preparing to let exhaustion wash over her.

"I'll wake you when we 'ave something, eh?"

She nods, closes her eyes and listens. Her body grows heavy and after a few minutes she hears The Mole whisper in French, "She doesn't trust you."

The other man hums agreement, his fingers tapping on the keyboard.

With her eyes closed, for a split second, Kate can pretend that it's Castle she hears. That she's tucked up in his bed with the sounds of his writing spilling through the open door. She imagines how, in a moment, the melody of his fingers on the keys will cease, and the bed will dip. The warmth and heat and love of the man surrounding her before Castle finally presses his lips to her forehead.

Tears leak under her weighted lashes and, for the first time since the case begun, Kate doesn't force them to stop.


	3. Chapter 3

It feels like barely seconds later when the familiar sound of a gun being loaded draws her upright. Jumping to her feet, more than a little disoriented, Kate searches for the source of the oncoming attack. She finds instead the unnamed man, gearing up, and clearly readying himself for something.

"What did you find?" Kate demands, making her way to where he sits, rubbing a hand down her face and swallowing thickly.

"Maybe something, maybe nothing."

"What does that mean?" Kate finds herself even closer to losing patience now, her hands clenching at her side and the nearness of a weapon like razorblades down her spine. She wants that gun, but she wants it out of his hands even more.

"Your phone rang while you were sleeping, the girl's father I presume."

Kate freezes.

" 'e is relentless, no?"

She chokes a sound, her heart in her mouth and refusing to beat.

"We didn't answer, but there will be messages, I suggest you do not listen to them until after what comes next." He slips the now loaded gun into his holster and brings images up on the screen.

She finds her voice, cracked though it may be, "What is that?"

"A building, office space, close to a rooftop, tiles that match the girl's call," he shrugs, "It could be the place."

"Then give me the address," Kate demands. "I'll go now."

"No, I will go, determine if -"

"Like hell you will." Kate steps into his space, uses her height as he remains seated for dominance and stares him down, "You're not leaving here without me."

"It might not be the place."

"Doesn't matter."

"It might be _the_ place." He stares into her eyes and lets his meaning sink in. She could find herself at at a murder site, where Alexis took her last breath, maybe even find the girl's discarded body.

Kate sucks in a deep breath and sets her lips into a firm and straight line, determination the rigid backbone to her resolve. She's crossed that line a thousand times for strangers, with the memory of her mother this brilliant thing that kept her respectful when those around her joked, kept her head up and focused when others grew complacent and gave up. She refuses to let Castle ever come close to experiencing those emotions.

Whatever happens, whatever she finds, there is no turning back.

"So be it." She states, "If you want your money, you take me with you."

* * *

><p>It's the right place but Alexis is long gone.<p>

Kate maintains her trained stealth as they move through the halls of the building, her unnamed guide far more tech savvy, more capable than he had at first appeared. He snakes a camera under the door, draws his gun and waves her behind him as they move.

They find themselves in the room Kate immediately recognizes from the Skype video. She barges beyond the man into the hallway and together they find the space Alexis was held in.

The room's empty.

Two beds and no windows and - thank god - no blood anywhere in sight.

Kate crouches down beside one of the makeshift cots, allows her hand to hover and finds the mattress cold. Whoever was here is now long gone.

* * *

><p>There is a single, long hair laying on the pillow. It's the same color as Alexis' hair and Kate feels her breath stutter in her chest at the sight of it.<p>

* * *

><p>"It's too clean." She announces as she follows the man out of the room.<p>

He pauses his sweep, sets down the scanner in his hands and turns to face her, "I 'ave to agree." His eyes linger as though Kate's given something away, offered up something of herself that he finds fascinating and for a few seconds the weight of his appraisal shrouds her with fear. "This is no mere kidnapping." He announces and just as suddenly as it came, the tension breaks.

"Tradecraft," he mumbles, almost to himself.

Unable to stop herself Kate laughs, it's bitter and painful and the universe is a fucking joke to be messing with her - with them - like this. "Spies?" She flinches as the word leaves her mouth, "You're telling me you think this is the work of spies?"

"It is 'ardly amusing."

She laughs again, shakes her head, lack of sleep and the years spent listening to Castle throw around the same theory finally getting the best of her. She's only not hysterical through sheer force of will.

" 'ooever did this 'ad intelligence training." His words serve their purpose and Kate refocuses her attention."There is nothing 'ere, no trace of your partner's daughter." He walks away from her as she flinches at the knowledge, but his movement holds her stunned unable to throw the words at him that burn at the tip of her tongue.

He lifts a knife and her fingers once again ghost over her hip, seeking out her missing weapon, only to see him slide the blade into the wallpaper and peel it back slowly, revealing a small metal disc.

He steps back, steps into her and presses his lips to the edge of her ear, "They're listening."

Kate curls her fingers over the wrist that holds his knife, prepared for him to move in her direction, instead he whispers again, "They are prepared, if the police find this place, they can stay one step ahead."

_Police? _

She freezes.

Who the hell are these people? Why would they want Alexis? Nothing about this makes any sense.

"Who -?"

Before she can finish her question he steps away, uses the knife to peel the paper back once more and talks directly to the people on the other end of that bug.

"I know you're listening," he starts, "That you are watching too and you know _I _am not a cop."

Kate feels it slither down her spine like the trail of an ice cold slug. He may not be a cop, but she is. Do they know that?

"I 'av no interest in your cause, or your agenda. I am 'ere for the girl." He turns and catches Kate's eye, a sinister half smile creeping across his lips, "Now you 'av what you wanted and she is meaningless to you, but not to me." The smile grows. "Be smart, call and name your price," he laughs then and Kate feels her heart beat rapidly in her chest, all of her trust in this man who is positively mad as he cackles insanity at the wall. "Be stupid and I will come for you."

He laughs again, louder this time and Kate edges back towards the door, her eyes never leaving him as her fingers search for a weapon. There is nothing, nothing on any surface, not even a pen she could use to gouge out his eyes should she need to. Nothing.

"By now you know 'oo I am. You know what I 'av done and what I will do when I find you." Kate stops dead and their eyes meet as he speaks, "The choice is yours."

* * *

><p>The phone between them rings immediately and he answers it with an horrific smirk of satisfaction.<p>

She's not safe, she's known that all along, but the more time she spends with him the more Kate becomes aware of how tenuous a grip she has on her ability to protect herself.

He murmurs in French behind her and Kate flinches as she hears the response.

"La coulée verte. Sept heures. Venez seul. Sans le flic."

They have a time and a place, but they also have a problem.

_Sans le flic_.

She's been made.

* * *

><p>"You're not going without me." Kate states as they leave the building, watching the words take root in the man at her side.<p>

"You 'eard that?" He shakes his head, "Don't you see, they want to negotiate, that is a good thing, means the girl is alive."

Kate scoffs, they both know that's crap, that they could be walking into a set up, especially now they know she's a cop. Just as easily, he could be about to abandon her entirely. "You're not having that meeting without me."

He laughs, "You are attached, no? To the girl?" Kate remains rigid, not wanting to allow him beyond her defenses as he tries to figure her out, "Maybe, maybe not, but there is something 'ere. Someone you care about."

Kate knows her face betrays her then, emotion at the thought of Castle lightning fast as it darts over her features, warps her expression into something torn between love and pain.

He sneers.

"Like an animal, eh. You are unpredictable." His eyes roam her body, "Though, you are like this anyway, no?" He laughs and her hands clench into fists at her side. He's not wrong, Kate would quite happily tear him apart. "Plus you're a cop."

_Sans le flic._

_Without the cop._

Kate narrows her eyes, and he laughs, delighted when he thinks he's shocked her. "Why d'you think the only demand they made was that I don't bring you?"

It's not as if she hasn't already thought of it, hasn't already considered herself _compromised_ the moment she uttered the words _homicide detective_ to Gaston. Kate is fully aware she's been operating on borrowed time. But this is a lead, a flimsy one but the _only_ one she's had so far. She'll be damned if she lets it slip through her fingers.

"If they already know I'm a cop, they already know you've been helping me." Kate steps in close, sneers too, just as viciously, confidence surging when her stance makes the man step back.

"If you don't take me with you," she whispers, her voice low with the threat, "the second you're out of my sight I'll call the Police Nationale, the F.B.I and every other law enforcement agency that knows my name down here." He laughs and so does she, which silences him in shock, "You think you can stop me?"

"I 'av my ways." He seethes back, flicks his fingers over the weapon holstered at his side, and Kate laughs, louder and more viciously than before.

"I traveled halfway across the world, alone, _unarmed_," Kate shakes her head, slowly, from side to side. "You have no idea what I am capable of, or how far I will go to save Alexis Castle." Kate pushes him back until he collides with the wall, her finger to his chest. "Try and stop me." Her head tilts as she smiles, "I dare you."

Time blinks out of existence for a moment only to roar back with a vengeance. His anger evaporates as quickly as it came, reaffirming her assumption that he's mentally unbalanced.

"Eh, come if you like." He laughs, patting her on the shoulder and stepping around her as if they're friends and it was all a joke, "If you ar' 'ere to see the girl dead. Sure. Come."

Kate flinches at that, her confidence falling away.

"We both know she would be dead before your call even connected to America and I don't think this is what you want."

She swallows, he leans in closer.

"The man 'oo sent you to Gaston, 'e is 'er father?"

Kate nods trying to meet his eyes.

"You love 'im, no?"

Kate levels him with a look. Her eyes burn into his with the force of what she feels, not some thrown around haphazard word for him to use against them. Years of friendship and partnership scalded into her stare. Life. The one they had together before, are learning together now and could have in the future, it's all there in the hard flare of her pupils.

He laughs, waves a hand, dismissing something he has no fucking hope of ever understanding. Yes, she loves Castle, yes she loves his daughter, why else would she be here? How on earth can she let him leave her behind?

"The girl's father, 'e knew the value of an, eh, intermediary." He shrugs, "This is what you pay me for, 'e knew that or 'e wouldn't have approached Gaston. If you trust 'im detective Beckett -" the casual use of her name and title sends another blast of ice down her spine, "-you must in turn trust me to take this meeting alone."

He waits.

After a few seconds Kate finds herself nodding, hating herself for it at the same time. In trusting Castle she's ignoring her own instinctive need to follow the evidence and it leaves a horrible grinding feeling in her stomach.

* * *

><p>Back in The Moles burrow, Kate paces, waiting for her unhinged "intermediary" to return. Her body's on high alert again, her heartbeat frantic and her palms sweaty, great rivulets of moisture running down her back, between her breasts. Yet, strangely, the muted light of Henri's little cave manages to calm the panic. It's the dark, she's fairly certain, the lack of outside stimuli, now that he's not playing Castle's terrified voice on repeat Kate finds she can breathe in this space. Even the rank and stale air does something to bring her down. Now if only the other man would return with news.<p>

All the while she paces, Kate looks for a weapon. A pen, a knife, another gun, something with a point or sharp edge. They're obviously prepared though, because aside from the laptop that rests unlit on the same table as before, there is nothing on any surface. Not a thing out of place or used and there is no way that that is an accident.

"'ere." Henri approaches, a cup balanced in his hand. "Sit. Drink."

She stares down into the cup he forces into her hand.

"It's tea. Your pacing is driving me mad." He laughs, near hysteria in the sound, and scurries back to his chair. He's clearly more at home among his devices and computer screens than talking to her, "'e will be back soon." Kate opens her mouth to question further but before she can The Mole waves his hand, "Ah, 'e already is."

"She's alive." He says before Kate even speaks.

He throws down his bag and crosses the room, giving Kate enough time to ditch the tea cup and rise to her feet. "How d'you know? Did you see her? How did she look?" her brow furrows when he smiles, but he presses a picture into her hands.

"This is today's paper." He states.

The picture is large close up of Alexis holding a newspaper and from the very depths of her chest Kate feels the sob rise up. She traps her fingers to her lips, refuses the animalistic sound an escape but her relief is tangible, flooding the room and the spaces around them.

The man laughs but she ignores him, staring down into the stone set blue eyes of Castle's daughter.

She's still alive, and she looks fairly unharmed. Her eyes are rimmed in shadows, her hair lank, dirty and framing her face but there is a look of sheer defiance burning back from the teenager, so fierce and determined that Kate finds the sob dissipating, immediately replaced by a laugh she cannot keep quiet.

Oh, the anger there, behind that swathe of blue, reminds Kate of Castle. Their genetic link undeniable in the image she stares at, Kate finds herself fueled, refilled and re-energized just looking at it. Hope washes over her, settles into those torn apart places and starts to stitch her back together again.

It hasn't all been for nothing.

She's alive.

Alexis is alive.


	4. Chapter 4

"What do they want?" Kate asks, setting down the picture of Alexis and slipping back into cop mode with ease, "Why take Alexis?"

"Opportunity," he shrugs. "Nothing more. A chance presented itself when the other girl was released, they took it."

Kate turns on her heel, pacing resumed, his words not sitting right.

"They 'ave agreed to let her go in exchange for a ransom, same as the other one." He shrugs, as though it's simple, as though it all makes sense. It doesn't.

"Their motive was purely money?" Kate rolls her eyes, "I don't see how-"

"I thought you were 'ere to get the girl back safely, not to solve the case, detective." He hisses the words at her, sneering again, that look on his face one she'd enjoy wiping off once and for all. "Per'aps you should be grateful they are willing. Per'aps you should work on transferring the money."

"Money?" Kate flinches and walks away, pales when he utters the amount. She's already cleaned out her savings getting this far, she has a trust she'd be more than willing to use but it's not worth that much and time is against her yet again.

"How long do I have?" Kate queries, walking back until she stands between the two men.

"A few hours, late this afternoon in the forest of Fontainebleau."

"A forest?" Kate searches his face, yet it remains emotionless, he shrugs again.

"They set the terms, detective, I did not argue."

Kate nods back, agreeing with him on this at least. She picks up the picture of Alexis once more and sighs, thinking through her next move, her fingers darting over the girl's face, circling her eyes. She stops, searches the frozen blue hue and sighs.

The solution is obvious.

She needs to call Castle.

* * *

><p>When the line connects and he answers on the first ring Kate feels her heart plummet in her chest.<p>

"Beckett? Where the hell are you?"

He's angry, fuming with it and Kate can see the pent up lines of his aggression as if he was standing before her, mere inches away.

She wishes he was, then she could reach out and touch his face, smooth her fingers over the roar of anger under his skin and whisper her apology into the curve of his mouth.

But this is enough. For now, this is enough.

The sound of his voice is a godsend.

"The F.B.I are -"

"Castle." She chokes on the weight of his name, can't say anything more than that, breaking his rage before he can even get into the full swing of it.

He deflates, panics, and she hears him sit down, the gentle familiar creak setting him somewhere inside the loft. When he speaks, he sounds terrified, "Beckett, are you okay? Is Alexis okay?"

"She's alive, Castle." Kate holds the phone with both hands, cradling their connection within her grasp and drawing Castle as close as humanly possible. She closes her eyes and sinks down on the couch listening to the sounds of his sobbed relief fill the silence.

She whispers it again, her apology spilling out before she can stop it, "I'm sorry, Castle, I'm so sorry, but she's alive. Alexis is alive."

It takes a few seconds of her whispered promises to calm him, his breath ragged as his panic wanes, "Is she - she with you? Can I talk to her?"

"No, Castle, but I have proof and I'm gonna get her back, I swear." Her voice sounds as torn apart and put back together as his, their connection gifting them with the most minor of reprieves, even as Castle shudders with the knowledge she doesn't yet have Alexis with her. "Castle, they want money."

"How much? Where does it need to go, Beckett?" She can hear him moving things, opening and closing drawers, pictures him in his office at the loft. She knows he keeps his bank information in one specific place and that he'll have everything moved the second she fires off the details.

Guilt rattles through her, she should have called him sooner.

"Three million dollars, they need cash." She reads the name of the bank from a slip of paper as Castle writes it down, spelling it for him to make sure the transfer goes through unhindered. She's not screwing this up now.

"It will be there waiting," he swears, his voice tight with emotion. "You said you had proof Beckett, did you see her? How does she look, is she okay?"

"I have a picture." Kate feels her eyes well, and she stares at the girl's expression, "She looks mad, Castle." He huffs a watery sounding chuckle, clinging to her words as Kate sets the photo on the floor and snaps a picture of it, making sure the date is visible.

It takes a moment to reach him, then, "Oh, she does." He makes a sound, somewhere between terror and relief and Kate can see him, blue eyes huge and blurring with tears, hands surrounding his phone as he leans down heavily over his desk and stares at the proof his daughter is still alive.

"She looks like you." The words are barely a whisper but he hears them, hears their meaning and the weight she puts behind them.

He sighs, shifts so the sounds between them change and she knows he's taken her off speakerphone, no longer looking at the image of Alexis.

"Did you tell them to keep me here?" Castle asks a few seconds later. His voice deep and grayed with the gravel of his tone, "Ryan and Gates? The Feds, my mother? Beckett was that - did you -?"

"No, Castle." She promises, swearing her truth but relieved all the same. Kate finds herself grateful that someones stepped in to trap him in New York. She wants him with her, yes, with every part of her, but she still rejoices that he's not, that he's safe.

It's a million different emotions all at once, and the need to touch him steadily becoming this tumultuous _roar_ in her ears. It silences _everything_ but the sounds _he_ makes. His voice, his breathing, his anger.

Castle; her lifeline.

_Your passport's in my safe_. She breathes quietly, for a second the words on the tip of her tongue. He knows the combination and it's Castle, he'd find a way. But can she risk it? His life? Should she even be making that choice for him?

Someone speaks near him, steals her opportunity with the muffled echo of their voice, and she hears him cradle the phone closer, ignoring whatever was said.

He makes the choice for her, "Kate, if -"

"I'm bringing her home, Castle." There is no argument for her than from that moment, no doubt. She's doing this for him, for them both.

His voice breaks as he tries to speak and her fingers stroke the case as if soothing him.

"We'll talk, Kate. After. But what you did - I can't- After... just bring her home."

He deflates again, silence stealing the rest of his words and her voice becomes a choked back scrape that stays trapped in her throat. If she fails, this is it for them, Kate doesn't doubt that. But failure has never been an option. She _will_ save his child.

She listens to the sound of his breathing, somehow sending life through her system, there's no other way of describing it. The warmth that suffuses her, floods her veins and flares electricity to her nerves.

"I shouldn't have done this without you."

He doesn't even hear the words, he's talking to someone else.

Her brow furrows and she tries to listen but the bearded Frenchman catches her eyes and waggles his fingers, telling her to speed it up.

She glares, turns herself away to claim as much privacy as possible.

There is a muffled conversation taking place on Castle's end, male voices and maybe Martha too, all talking at once, all vying for his attention. All frantic about _something_.

"Castle?"

"Kate - what? Hang on Beckett, Espo's here."

The man motions again for Kate to hurry up, as far as he's concerned her call has served its purpose, but when she starts to say goodbye Castle interrupts her.

"Wait, Beckett, Espo said they've found something."

"It is time you 'ang up, detective."

"They found pictures, Kate. Pictures of Alexis. Espo said the Feds think she was the target, not the El Masri's. Beckett?"

She can hear the panic in his tone and her eyes flick up to the man opposite her, The Mole at his back. They both step in closer now as if they can hear her partner talking, their looming presence suddenly oppressive.

Beckett holds up one finger and magically the men freeze. She blanks her face, allows her expression to become a mask that they cannot see beyond.

"You can't trust the people you're with Beckett." Castle growls, not sure his words are getting through. She can hear Espo rage in the background, Martha worrying, a voice she doesn't recognise demanding answers.

Kate realises any second now someone is gonna want to put a trace on her. If they haven't already.

"We 'ave to leave." The Frenchman steps forward, hand held out, all semblance of patience gone.

"Kate do you hear me? You cannot trust-"

"I don't," Kate smiles, feels it pull tight on what restraint she has remaining, heart aching all the while, "I have to go, Castle. I love you."

"Kate, don't -"

She ends the call.

* * *

><p>Castle keeps his word. Kate had no doubt that he wouldn't.<p>

She's in and out of the bank in under ten minutes.

A pass-code, her name, her passport as proof of identity and whatever strings Castle pulled, whatever favors he called in, allow her to walk out with a case full of cash handcuffed to her wrist.

Three million dollars in Euros.

The car pulls up as she steps out into the street and, with barely a glance in her direction when she climbs in, the engine roars and they drive away.

* * *

><p>The man at her side hasn't glanced at her once, but Kate has seen his eyes linger on the case in her lap several times. Her unease grows, shifts focus from the knowledge Castle provided her with and centers firmly beside her.<p>

"What's your name?" Kate asks, her fingers curling around the edges of the case.

He laughs, either not expecting it or having expected it sooner, "Jacques." He shrugs when she snorts. "Claude," her brow knits together, "Pierre, Francoise. It does not make a difference, I will change it tomorrow."

"How much further, _Claude_?" Kate questions, her voice laden with sarcasm.

"Eh, maybe ten minutes," his eyes drag over her as the car follows the road. "Soon you will 'ave 'er back and be on your way 'ome." His eyes drop to the case once more and Kate shifts, draws it more firmly into her lap, lets him see she knows what he's been looking at.

Her words are near silent, spoken to the window, to the country beyond, to the writer at home and his daughter out there waiting to be rescued.

"Damn right I will."

* * *

><p>The forest is eerily quiet as Kate and Jacques (Claude or whatever the hell his name is) march towards the waiting black SUV. The trees whisper above her, the grass shimmers at her feet and with every step she takes the wind picks up as if in warning. Begging her to run.<p>

Kate walks awkwardly with the case still cuffed to her wrist, the weight of the money and the bargain about to be struck pulling her body to the left as she lists into the weight. Gnawing on the inside of her lip Kate bites down hard on her tongue. She hates this, hates being unarmed and unbalanced and uninformed. She wants her team, yearns for her weapon almost as much as she yearns for Castle. Both absences hit her hard and throw her off her game, as though she's suddenly missing a limb. Missing the vital piece of herself that keeps her one step ahead of the game.

A twig snaps and so does her focus, firmly back to the four men that emerge from the vehicle. They're dressed head to toe in black, faces are covered, like sinister spectres that haunt the woods they drift towards her slowly, and every single one of them is armed.

They're outnumbered, outgunned and outmaneuvered, and worse still, there is no sign of Alexis.

Somehow she's screwed this up. Panic rushes through her, urged on by the wind at her back, it throws her hair into disarray around her face and momentarily blinds her.

She gasps and fumbles.

"Stay calm." He mumbles at her side, arming himself, leaving his weapon by his leg for those approaching to see. As if _one_ gun is going to do much damage against the automatic fire of the four that will be aimed straight at them.

"Walk a'ed of me, detective," he instructs. "Let them see you 'ave the case."

The moment she steps in front of him Kate knows the play before anyone even moves. The man at her back is about to betray her, steal the money and leave at the hands of men who have their own agenda when it comes to Alexis. Maybe Castle too. She's about to become collateral damage in a war she can't even begin to understand. One - for once - she isn't a part of.

Stepping lightly Kate braces herself, finds her feet as they sink into the mud and tightens her grip on the case preparing to swing it around. She's going to hit him with everything she's got and finally knock that smug, arrogant sneer right off his face, only as she lifts her arms to do it a bullet whizzes past her cheek and takes him out.

Everything around her explodes. Movement, action and sound thundering like a thousand horse hooves. Her own heartbeat loud and unforgiving in her ears. The birds in the trees scream, caw and flutter, outraged as their oasis is torn asunder.

Kate drops to the ground instinctively, dragging the case up to shield her head and face, hearing only the sounds of moans and more gunfire, rapid gunfire, men around her dying.

She rolls taking the case with her, leans back as far as she can and scrabbles in the dirt for his gun. She finds instead the lifeless eyes of her unnamed contact and no remorse at all for the loss of his life.

His weapon is just out of reach. Thrown to one side when he was shot. It grazes the tip of her fingers and she groans, rolls, rocks onto her front and uses her elbows to drag herself through the dirt. Kate shifts sideways and bites her lip against a yelp when the stoney, rough floor of the forest tears shreds from her skin.

Finally her fingers close around the barrel, metal comfort firm in her grasp. She slides the gun into her palm, checks the safety and . . . realizes the forest is in silence.

Kate freezes, the gun tight in her grip as she listens to the noises around her, waiting for something to shift or alter, for her perception of the scene to adapt to her current positioning.

Everyone is dead.

Silence remains.

Her breath comes quicker, sudden desperate rasps that make Kate aware she was holding it in, and it's only as the first panted gasp shudders beyond her lips that she hears movement.

Twigs snapping, leaves crunching.

Footsteps.

Drawing in close and completely unhurried.

"You can stand up now, Beckett."

She flinches hard at the sound of her own name, at the lack of recognition for the person calling her out like he knows her. Kate rolls in the direction of the voice, loathe to obey. But, when she draws herself up to her full height, her gun sight trained on the man emerging from the treeline, she doesn't waiver.

"Freeze," Kate shouts, body off balance once more as the weight of the case pulls her aim to the left. "Stay right where you are."

He laughs and keeps coming, one hand in his pocket, the other supporting the semi-automatic sniper rifle thrown over his leather clad shoulder. "Put that down, I'm not gonna shoot you." When she doesn't he sighs, "If I wanted you dead, you'd be dead."

"Who the hell are you," Kate shouts as he draws closer. "What do you want with me? With Alexis Castle?"

He stops walking, holds up his hands to show they're empty. "I don't want _you_," he drawls, long and low, covering the last few paces between them. "I'm here to rescue my granddaughter."


	5. Chapter 5

"You can keep that gun as long as you get in the car right now." He smiles and it feels familiar. He pulls his sunglasses down low so their eyes meet and the skin around them crinkles; for a split second she could swear she's staring at -

Kate stops the thought before it takes root, choosing instead to watch as he moves beyond where she stands, out among the bodies, checking pulses and removing weapons. He kicks out at a body he passes, callous and cold. He pushes back the rim of his cap and searches the pockets of his leather jacket before giving up, returning to his appraisal of the carnage.

"Your _granddaughter_?"

"Get in the car." He repeats, no malice in his voice, just frustration with her lack of movement. "We have to go."

"Like hell."

"If you have a phone, you need to leave it behind, they'll use it to track you."

"I don't have a phone, who the _hell_ are you?" The gun doesn't drop, and she swerves with him as he moves, following every step.

The device in her pocket chooses that moment to chime.

"That'll be my son." The man says, holding out his hand as she withdraws the phone, catching sight of Castle's picture on the screen. "Got his mother's sense of timing."

Kate ignores him, her mouth falling open in shock. Torn between the need to check and the need to stay vigilant, Kate wavers for a second, judges the distance between them and opts to answer the call.

She lifts the phone to her face only to have it snatched from her hand. Kate spins and finds herself face to face with the man who moved through the forest as quiet as a ghost.

"Sorry." He shrugs, grins, and Frisbees the phone away from them as hard as he can.

It hurtles through the air like a clay pigeon and, with speed and dexterity born of years of practice, the man _claiming_ to be Castle's father brings his gun up to his eye, takes aim, and blasts her phone to smithereens.

Pieces rain from the sky and the birds around them scream once more. She turns to face him, snapping her mouth shut. Completely at a loss for what to say.

"Kate, get in the car."

She follows behind him, gun in hand and the three million dollar briefcase tugging at her wrist. "Before I do tell me who the hell you are," she demands, holding the door open watching as he slides inside.

"Jackson Hunt," he replies with a grin. "Now get in."

"I'm getting really sick of people giving me fake names," She rasps, slipping into the passenger seat, startling when Hunt laughs.

It reminds her of Castle.

* * *

><p>They arrive at his hotel, a fairly run down building with no one manning the front desk and when they enter his room Hunt ditches his cap and gestures to the case still attached to her wrist.<p>

"We're safe here, for now, you should take that off."

He doesn't wait for her to answer, simply removing the key from Kate's fingers before she can offer it and sliding it into the lock. The cuff comes away and he steps back, leaving her to secure Castle's money in any way she sees fit.

She watches him move, the way his muscles contract and release, all of it frighteningly familiar. The way he holds himself upright, how he picks things up, all of it as though she could be watching Castle. And he's here claiming to be the man's father?

As much as she might not want to believe it, she can _see_ it.

Kate sets the case by the door and turns, her mouth falling open, astounded by what she sees.

Castle.

Castle everywhere.

Castle in technicolor and black and white, covering every surface of the wall. Photographs and newspaper clippings, report cards and grainy still shots stolen from security cameras.

They range in age.

In some he's young, barely a teenager. Some in private school uniform, or casual, in shorts at the park. They morph through time, until he becomes the writer of his youth, charming smile and arrogant air, at a bar, buying drinks.

Kate spots a picture from the first of Castle's book signings she ever attended. She can remember the heavy weight of her recently deceased mom's copy in her hands, almost feels the hard cover, and she shudders at the possibilities.

She's a lone face in the crowd, not even visible in the picture, but she was there, and so was Castle. They hadn't met yet but still. Could he have been watching all this time?

Her eyes roam the wall, more pictures, more details of Castle's life scraped together, moving through time until he's the man she knows today, coffee in hand, smile free and easy.

In one Kate sees herself there too, leaning up onto her toes, touching Castle's face, about to kiss him.

"Oh my god." Kate reaches for her gun again, twirling only to freeze at the sight of Alexis' image dotted behind him. From newborn, to toddler, through childhood and teens, the red headed girl dances and twirls behind him in ballet outfits, smiles at the camera for family candids Kate's seen on the dresser in Castle's bedroom. The last one, the largest, her graduation photo taken only a few months ago.

"Where did you get these?" Kate barks, hand still on the weapon at her hip, "Why do you have them?"

"It doesn't matter as long as we get _her_ back." Hunt steps closer and Kate reacts immediately, flinching away from Hunt as he reaches for her.

"Take it easy," he sighs, holding his hands up in surrender before he ruffles one through his hair. The move is disarming, she pictures Castle, early in the morning, hands in his hair as he yawns, t-shirt in disarray.

Kate freezes.

"Take it easy?" She scoffs, when she finally finds her voice. "You need to stop telling me what to do and start giving me some answers. Do you have Alexis? Have you been stalking the Castles?" Even as she utters the words out loud she knows they make no sense. The men in the woods wouldn't be dead now, surely, if he was the one who took Castle's daughter.

Hunt laughs, sad acceptance creeping into the sound and as he opens his mouth to speak the cell at her side rings and Kate jumps back startled.

The damn phones are driving her crazy.

"You'd better answer that," he says quietly, huffing at another interruptance, "probably Castle, checking up."

Kate glares, disbelieving, "That's not my phone. You _shot_ my phone." Her voice is deadly with annoyance, hand still resting on her hip where the gun remains under the pads of her fingers.

Hunt laughs again, "I know I might look old, but I do remember. It's a clone, safe, for now at least."

Kate's fingers itch, could it be true? She wants to talk to Castle and hear his voice so badly, but she needs to stay ready. Her fingers drop from her stolen weapon as need wins out and, though she keeps her eyes trained on Hunt, she reaches for the phone.

"That's not Castle's number." Kate feels the heavy weight of regret for barely a second before the man's reaction pushes her hard and fast into worry and suspicion. "It's local."

The tension in the room, already crackling, suddenly amps up as he steps in close and holds out his hand for her to pass over the call.

"Like hell." Kate hisses, wondering if by some miracle Castle's daughter has gotten free, "Hello? Alexis?"

"_No, Detective Beckett, I'm afraid not. But I am the person who is holding her."_

Kate squeezes the phone, feels the pull in her nails as the pressure on her fingers intensifies and her cheek starts to ache. At her side Hunt narrows his eyes, steps in closer. Short steady steps taken every few seconds, obviously designed not to startle her, nor draw her attention away from her call.

He holds out his hand again as though expecting the words that Kate hears, a perfectly timed coincidence, it would seem.

"_If you want her back, value her life as I can tell you do, hand the phone to the man who took out my people in the woods."_

Kate stares into his eyes, the darker yet recognizable blue eyes of Jackson Hunt. She takes in the way his hair falls and the stiff stubborn angle of his jaw as he waits. She feels it, follows her gut's instinctive reaction and makes a choice to believe that he is who he says he is. Castle's father. The mysterious and unknown stranger.

Their fingers brush as she hands over the phone and the room falls into silence. She can't hear the words of the man holding Alexis but a flare of recognition sets Hunt's pupils aflame.

This is his fault.

"Time to let her go Volkov."

Volkov. She has a name. A place to start. When she gets home - with Castle's daughter by her side - she will be able to provide answers and search for leads and bring this whole sorry thing to a close. She's gonna bring the walls down around their ears and make them beg, they're gonna wish they'd never heard the name _Castle _by the time she's through.

His face pales and Kate forgets revenge, suddenly horrified for what he's been told. Hunt's lips don't quiver but they do become one single oppressed line of white panic. He hangs up and stumbles back, finding a chair and collapsing down into it.

"What - is she -?"

"She's alive." He shakes his head to silence her fear, "She's still alive."

Kate traps a hand to the panicked beat of her heart, grips her chest and doubles over as she tries to breathe, "Oh, thank god!"

"They want to do an exchange. Me for her. Tomorrow."

"This is about you." Kate startles upright, "All along this had nothing to do with them did it, who did you piss off Hunt? Clearly the wrong people."

"I was careless," he says quietly, tossing the phone in front of him and draping his hands across his lap. He doesn't rise from his seat, he stays, as though drained of all energy. "He found out who she is, who Richard is and they knew I'd come for her."

"Because she's your granddaughter." Kate states, moving across the room to sit down opposite him, "Because you're Castle's father."

"You finally believe me." He laughs, humorlessly, "Well that would save me a lot of trouble explaining," Hunt eyes her where she sits opposite him, "except you seem like the type of woman who prefers the answers to a mystery."

Kate doesn't speak, but her face says everything she needs to.

"Must drive Richard crazy."

"How about you don't talk about him," Kate barks, "talk about you and why this man took Alexis."

"It's a long story."

Kate folds her arms across her chest and waits him out. "If the exchange isn't until tomorrow, we have time."

* * *

><p>"You're a spy." Kate drags her hands over her eyes and wants to laugh, "Oh, he's gonna love that." She can picture Castle's face, see his glee at being right about something like this. His debonair charm and god knows what other million things he's gonna lay at the door of being the son of an international spy.<p>

"Intelligence asset, but essentially -"

"All he's gonna hear is _spy_," Kate replies quietly, half wishing Castle was here to have this conversation himself. "Does Martha know?" Kate suddenly wonders aloud, "Is that why she was always so vague, has she been keeping your secret for years?"

"No, god, no." Hunt smiles wistfully, "I never told anyone. What'd she tell him about me anyway?" He sounds intrigued, his vision far away as if remembering that night long ago when he met the young starlet Martha Rogers.

"One night stand," Kate states harshly, not wanting to give him too many details, he hasn't earned them. "You left."

"Had to get out of the country fast," he replies, "Couldn't come back for a year, when I did, Richard was already here."

"You've known about him - them - for that long?" Kate confirms, though she still cannot fathom it. She cannot find it within herself to imagine what finding out that information must have felt like, keeping his distance for years.

"I kept watch. _Always_ kept watch" Hunt says quietly, his voice soft with the memory, "Met him once."

Kate finds herself coiling her knee beneath her, listening to him talk, spin tales, work the history into a story with almost as much skill as his son.

Almost.

"You did?"

"Yeah, in a library, he was about ten. Gangly kid. Had his nose buried in a book about amphibious cars and when his mother sat down and he wandered away," their eyes catch as he smiles again, "I couldn't let the chance pass by."

"You spoke to him?" Kate feels the surge of adrenalin under her skin, the soft ache for these people and their almost family, it's weird and strange and everything normal flies in the face of this connection, but she can't deny it. It's there, a little spark, but it's there.

"Gave him a book actually." Hunt smiles again, "told him it was more fun than getting his feet wet in a car."

"What book was it?" Kate asks, her heart clenching tight because she thinks she already knows.

"Casino Royale," Hunt laughs, and Kate nods, biting hard on her lip. "I couldn't believe it when I read his first spy novel, felt like we had a connection, all that time, even if I wasn't by his side growing up."

"You've read his books?" Kate shakes her head, unable to stop her smile, "he'll love that too."

"Yeah. I've been checking on him, and Martha and of course Alexis, their whole lives, it's not much, but for a little while it made me feel like I had a family." His eyes drop, sudden shadows marring his expression, "Now they're in danger, because of me."

"The man who has Alexis, who is he?" Kate asks, sitting forward and reclaiming Hunt's attention, "Someone you've dealt with before?"

"We run in the same circles," Hunt says, sighing when he knows that won't satisfy her, "Gregor Volkov. KGB. I killed his wife."

"Oh god." Kate covers her mouth and watches as Castle's father rises to his feet.

"If I don't show up tomorrow, he will kill Alexis."

"And if you do show up, he'll kill you too?"

"Maybe." Hunt shrugs, turning back to Kate with determination in his eyes, "But I know where he's holding her."

"What?" Kate jumps to her feet and clears the distance between them in two strides, "If you knew why didn't you say, we could have done something by now, called someone."

"I needed you on my side first." Hunt states, "Needed to know I could trust you because I can't do this alone."

"Do what?" Kate asks watching as he walks across the room to the small desk in the corner, unrolling what appears to be the floor plan of a large estate. In the center of one room Hunt has hastily sketched out a red square and in the middle of it one word.

Alexis.

"I'm going to get my granddaughter back. Tonight"


	6. Chapter 6

It's dark when they get to the house, the plan hazy at best but the best chance they have. Kate parts ways with Hunt at the end of the long driveway, taking the gun and the radio and the wire cutter with her.

Castle's father slinks off into the shadows and leaves Kate once more alone, the strange feeling of being partnerless creeping back in. She believes he's Castle's father and on some level transfers the feelings he feels for his son to Alexis. Clearly he wants the girl back safely, but when it comes to her own trust, her own ability to rely on the man to have her back, there's just something not quite right. Something missing.

It hits her again as she drops low and maneuvers closer to the house, just what exactly it is. They might look similar and move the same. They might have the same mannerisms and vivid stare, but none of that really matters. He's not Castle. Not even close.

Kate approaches a grate and removes a tool from the kit Hunt provided. She unscrews the bolts, maneuvers the grid and finds herself climbing down a ladder into the Parisian underbelly.

The stench of the sewer hits her immediately, the radio clicking on as she finds her feet and grimaces at something distinctly organic that floats by her shoe.

"You getting close?"

"Give me a minute." She hisses back.

"Don't have a minute, this has to be timed preci-"

"I know." Kate grits out through her teeth, twisting the head of her flashlight and breaking into a jog. She skids through a door to the left and finds herself no longer in a sewer but an underground maintenance route, wires running along the walls, the ground underfoot beautifully lacking any trace of human excrement.

"Now?"

"Almost." She growls.

"Beckett, there should be a junction box coming up on your right."

"Got it." Kate pants, finally slowly to a stop, she grips the flashlight between her teeth and shucks off her gloves.

"There's a conduit, third from the bottom, wrap the charge around it and move fast Beckett, time is running out."

"On it." She speaks around the light, biting down hard as it slips from her teeth, she attaches the detonator to the explosives and presses her thumbs in hard to make sure it's attached and will stay that way. "Set." Kate grunts, "You have thirty seconds from ...now!"

The timer before her beeps, the red lights flashing as the number start to descend rapidly.

She stands and the barrel of a gun nudges the base of her skull, making her jump and gasp with shock.

"Don't move." The heavy Russian accent is thick with threat and the gun bites viciously into her skin.

"I'm not moving," Kate promises as she raises her hand in surrender, the radio right by her mouth as she clicks the button and hisses loudly, "We have a problem."

* * *

><p>They spin her on the spot, knocking the radio from her hand before shoving her hard into the cobweb covered wall. Her hands drag over the rock and she grunts loudly at the impact, knuckles bleeding as they slide hard.<p>

One man removes her gun and pats her down, the other knots a blindfold over her eyes. It's too tight, biting angrily into the delicate flesh of her eyeballs until her vision starts to white out, dancing with color and stars.

The man kicking apart her legs drags his hands over her thighs, barks in Russian how firm her muscles are and laughs. When she gets her hands on her gun he's the one she's gonna kill first.

They march her, fast, ensuring she trips more than once, each man taking an arm and lifting her off her feet when she stumbles, only to set her down off balance and laugh loudly when she's forced to cling to them to stay upright.

Sounds around her change, the air clears, less heavy with dirt and dust, no longer damp. It now smells clean and almost homely. The light changes too, behind her blindfold golden hues appear and Kate knows she's finally made it inside the house.

* * *

><p>"Kate?"<p>

"Alexis?"

The blindfold comes off and Kate finds herself on the outer side of a wire mesh cage. Her vision takes a moment to clear and when it does Castle's daughter is pressed against the wire, the tips of her fingers reaching through the minuscule gaps, trying to get to Kate.

She goes to her instantly.

"Hey Alexis, are you okay?" The relief through her body is intense, bringing Kate to her knees as she searches the girl's eyes for truth when she says _yes, she's okay. _

Kate finds what she's looking for and breathes deeply, her own eyes closing for a moment.

Their fingers connect through the bars and when Alexis tears up Kate finds herself whispering quietly. "It's gonna be okay, Alexis, I promise."

"Why are you here?" The girl asks, confused, "Did they kidnap you too?" Panic setting in, "Where's my dad, Beckett? Is he okay?"

"He's fine." Kate promises, dipping her head until Alexis is looking at her, "He's okay." She drags in another breath. "I came without him."

"You did?"

"Yeah," Kate strokes the girl's fingers through the bar, smiles weakly, "he's fine I promise. I'm gonna be in his bad books for a while," Kate laughs weakly, trying to reassure his daughter with humor the way Castle would if he was here. "But he's okay and I'm gonna take you to him."

* * *

><p>Their few seconds of reprieve are stolen away when Volkov cocks his gun at her back, forcing Kate to find her feet and stare him down.<p>

"Did he really think I wouldn't be prepared for an attack."

"Beckett, what's he talking about?"

"Tell her," Volkov smiles, waving his gun between Alexis and Kate, "Tell her why she's really here."

The man from the tunnel who groped her legs reappears and Kate meets his eyes with revulsion, fingers curling over the ghost of her imagined weapon. The urge to shoot him, shoot them all, this vicious viper that coils within her chest.

"She had this on her." He smirks, handing off her radio to Volkov.

The man grins, almost giddy with his discovery as Kate finds her way closer to Alexis, bringing the girl with her to the edge of the cage.

""I know you're close. I know you're here." Volkov smiles into the radio, "I have your granddaughter and now I have your friend too." Kate grits her teeth, feels the bite of Alexis' fingers into her hands through the bars.

"It's okay." She barely breathes.

"You have ten seconds to show yourself to my men, or I will shoot her and then I will shoot your granddaughter."

"Oh god." Alexis closes her eyes and pulls Kate closer.

"Ten."

He starts his countdown and Beckett swallows hard praying that Hunt knows what the hell he's doing.

"Nine... eight... seven." He starts to walk away and Kate feels the corners of her lips curl into a smile.

"I'm sorry." Alexis whispers, her eyes still closed, "Sorry for getting you -"

"Five...Four."

"Alexis get down."

The girl's eyes startle open and Kate drops low to the ground, pulling Alexis with her. Through the bars of the cage Kate hisses at her to cover her ears and behind them the room explodes.

The radio explosive in Volkov's hand rips bricks from the walls and takes out the men around him. Hunt's plan works but she only has seconds to free Alexis and get the hell out.

Kate detaches her belt buckle and pulls another, smaller explosive device free, attaching it to the cage door and yelling for Alexis to stand back. Kate sets it for three seconds and barely dives out of the way before the controlled explosion rips the door from its hinges.

Before she can even stand straight Alexis throws herself into Kate's arms, tears streaming down her face, sticking the lank strands of her dirt matted hair to her face.

Tucking the girl's hand within her own Kate barely has time to squeeze one arm around her in a hug infused with thanks and relief before she pulls Alexis behind her and takes off running.

Bullets fly around them.

Bricks explode.

The ground beneath them shakes.

But Kate refuses to stop, repeating Hunt's words in her mind and out loud as she runs, "Don't look back."

She doesn't.

* * *

><p>They turn a corner and two men appear, barely breaking stride Kate takes one out with a roundhouse kick that sends him spiraling to the ground.<p>

She grabs the gun of the other, twists his arm up behind his back and shoves him as hard as she can into the stone pillar at the center of the room.

All her weight pressed into the back of his neck, his forehead makes a sickening crunch as it hits the post but before she even has time to register the sound, Kate is reaching for Alexis' hand again, sprinting from the room, barging through the last door and tumbling out onto the street.

* * *

><p>"<em>Don't stop running. Ever. Head out the back because I'll be coming in the front. Don't stop. Don't stop until you reach the U.S embassy. Don't stop until you're inside and my granddaughter is safe."<em>

* * *

><p>Whatever he did, whatever people he knows in high places pulled every string imaginable and Alexis has a new passport and documentation within an hour of them arriving at the embassy.<p>

Hunt is nowhere to be seen.

They don't ask questions, but they stare. Every official she comes into contact with knows her name, knows Alexis' name and as they wait for paperwork to be rushed through, a man in uniform leads Kate through to a room with a bed and a shower and clean clothes for them both.

She doesn't let go of Alexis' hand until the very last moment. The door to the bathroom stays open as the water turns on and Kate sits on the bed watching the steam stream out into the room as the girl washes away the remnants of her ordeal.

She washes any remaining trace evidence away with it.

Kate isn't sure she could do anything with it anyway. The people involved in this are already operating under the radar. By now, with the house in pieces and Castle's father's whereabouts unknown, they will all have gone to ground, taking every one of her tenuous leads with them.

* * *

><p>She pretends not to hear her cry, yet when Kate returns from her own brief shower, Alexis' eyes are rimmed red, her cheeks pink and everything about her screams exhaustion.<p>

Dressed in clean clothes and feeling almost human for the first time in days, Kate crawls onto the bed and sits back against the headboard, pulling Castle's daughter with her.

Neither of them speak.

Kate coils her arm around Alexis' shoulders and strokes over her slowly drying hair, listening to the girl silently weep and hover somewhere on the edge of sleep.

* * *

><p>There's a knock on the door a little while later.<p>

Alexis flinches at her side choking on the water she's been sipping, the only thing the girl has been able to stomach so far, and Kate squeezes her hand before rising.

"It's okay." Kate promises, pulling the gun from her back that no one even questioned her keeping when she arrived. "Who is it?"

She opens the door slowly at the answer, the man standing before her holding out two envelopes, "Miss. Castle's new passport," he hands over one, "And this was left for you, Detective Beckett."

Kate glances down at the brown envelope, reading the three words scribbled on the front, unable to restrain the shudder that engulfs her body. Relief and shock and every manner of emotion rush through her.

_**For my son.**_

Castle's father is alive.

* * *

><p>When they arrive at the airport, under military escort, Martha and Castle are waiting on the tarmac. Alexis releases Kate's hand for the first time in almost half a day and sprints the last few steps and launches herself into her father's arms.<p>

Kate smiles as she watches the man she loves gather his daughter into his embrace, lifting his arm when Martha yelps delightedly and worms her way in at his side.

She stands aloof, not sure of her place among these people she thinks of as family. Letting them have their moment, content enough to bear witness to it if nothing else.

"Thank you." Castle whispers, just loud enough for her to hear, his head lifting from the top of his daughter's, his eyes finding Kate's as she comes to rest just in front of them. "Thank you," he repeats again, releasing his mother and holding out a hand for her.

Kate flies to him, and collides into the warmth of his body. She inhales deeply, snakes her hand around the back of his neck and buries her face into his coat, her fingers find Martha's hand and together they surround Alexis.

The girl sobs into her father's chest, Castle's eyes glisten, his lip trembling, and unable to stop herself, Kate gives in too. It's the first time since her first night alone in Paris that she's allowed herself to cry.

* * *

><p>Later that night, when the loft is quiet and Castle has ushered Alexis to bed, he finds his way back to her side. They sit for a long silent moment, tentative, staring into each other's eyes. Kate feels warm relief flood her veins when she reaches for his hand at the same moment Castle moves to take hers.<p>

"You stole my passport, Beckett." He grits his teeth, "you left, without word, without any sign you were coming back and you terrified me." He chokes on the words, "You left me here, alone and out of the picture."

Kate feels her eyes well with tears, squeezes his fingers.

"You pushed me away, and you broke my trust, Kate." His own eyes well too, "But you brought my daughter home alive and I can't thank you enough for that." His voice breaks as he chokes on a sob.

Kate drags a hand down her face as she wipes away tears, forcing herself closer until her hands are cupping his face. She kisses him, hard, teeth and tears staining his lips, and he lets her, his hands tight around her waist, biting in.

"Don't ever do that again without me," he pleads, his voice low and painfully quiet. Castle threads their fingers together and pulls until Kate complies, climbing his body, straddling his lap.

"I won't." She sobs, hearing herself make the promise, knowing in her heart she'll try to mean it.

Nose to nose now, she lets him see how much it hurt her to be without him, but even as Kate makes her promise she's not sure it's one she'll be able to keep.

Castle reads her like no one else and the truth of her dilemma is written in the tired lines of her face. He doesn't call her on it though, she thinks some part of him understands. Perhaps if she hadn't intervened in the beginning, they would be in each other's shoes right now, and she would be the one forced to make peace with being left out of the equation; for the greater good.

His forehead touches her own and her eyes close, fingers curling at his jaw.

They kiss again and this time it's slow, soft and full of love. A brief re-connection of their lips all they need for the moment.

Exhaustion is weighing them both down, Kate cannot wait to crawl into bed with him, to strip away the layers of the past few days and find sanctuary within Castle's arms, skin to skin beneath the sheets.

She wants desperately to surrender to sleep, but first she has a debt to repay.

"Castle, I have to tell you something," she starts quietly, smiling softly, grateful she gets to share in this part of his life, grateful for so many things when it comes to him. She takes a breath, sighs tiredly and gives up the words "Castle, I met your father."

* * *

><p>"My dad's a <em>spy<em>," he almost yells his shock, covering his mouth when he remembers his family asleep upstairs, "does my mom know?"

The little boy in him comes alive at the mere thought of his father the spy, his loving blue eyes dancing at the possibilities or heroic acts and daring deeds, and Kate feels her heart swell at the sight. He drops her hand and sits back, staring down into his lap as the information sinks in.

"Do we - do we look alike?" Castle asks after a few second of contemplation, refreshed instantly and eager for the story. Kate watches him building the background and accompanying detail in his head before she's even had a chance to share her tale.

She tells him their similarities and their differences and strokes Castle's cheek when she talks about his eyes. How their familiarity helped gain her trust and, yes, they have the same deep crinkles at the edges, same flaring indignant eyebrow when she frustrates them.

She doesn't tell Castle of the coldness she saw, the deep veins of ice that penetrated his father's pupil and set her on edge the first few minutes they were alone. She doesn't tell him how, with cold calculation, Hunt had checked for pulses on the men he had just mowed down, with a handgun pressed to their foreheads.

Kate tells him that he made it out alive by whatever means necessary and that she fears the consequences of those actions, that she's terrified of what that could mean for their future. But that without him she's not sure she could have gotten Alexis back, or made it out alive herself.

She tells Castle that she's grateful to have met him and thankful everyday that she gets to be a part of his son's life.

She keeps her promise. Slipping out of his arms for the briefest moment, to produce the rat eared copy of Casino Royale Jackson Hunt sent to her in a brown paper envelope at the U.S embassy.

"He said you'd know what it meant, that you'd remember." Kate mumbles quietly, smiling and allowing a yawn to chase away the remainder of her sentence.

She strokes his face as Castle's eyes well with tears at the sight of the book, and, when he flips the front cover to reveal the inscription, Kate's breath catches as easily as Castle's does.

He might not have been the best of men, but he fought to keep his granddaughter alive, and in doing so allowed Kate to keep the man she knows and loves with all her heart.

"He was watching over me the whole time." With understanding and surprise, Castle trails a finger over the inscription that he has only ever spoken in quiet moments to those he loves.

A single word that encompasses all and everything he feels for Kate Beckett, the woman who put her own life on the line to bring his daughter home.

One word that echoes between them as her eyes find where his landed on the page and she smiles.

One lone word that unites him with his father though time.

One word.

_Always._

* * *

><p><strong>The End.<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Thank you for taking the time to read and review. As promised this was the original prompt: I just got thinking and wondered what Target/Hunt would look like if Beckett went to Paris to save Alexis and it was Castle who was left at home - what would she tell him afterwards about his father etc.


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